Lumen Fidei and a Tomato-red Day

My grandmother passed away over a decade ago, but she gave me a bit of a nudge last Friday.

I’d been doing small bursts of gardening over ten days and over did it. The doctor said ice, meds, and bed rest…I ended up being flat-out for four days.

I felt perkier by Friday. Mid-morning I moseyed out the back door to look at my single ‘Champion’ tomato plant. I laugh at myself and my one good plant…I fuss so over it! When I had grown dozens of tomatoes I would plant them deep, stab the earth with supports, spread newspaper and straw, and periodically remember to tie the vines—watering was optional.

That morning, to my surprise, at the base of the plant was a single fully ripe perfectly formed 10 oz. glowing-red tomato. Without forethought I exclaimed, “Well now, Grandma, will you look at that!” Goose-bumps tickled my arms at the thought of her and I smiled at the memories of her company. She had loved tomatoes, and she too usually grew only one or two plants. Many a summer dinner we shared was nothing more than a plate of sliced tomatoes—with a side of three-bean salad for protein.

Plucking the tomato, I realized I had no one with whom to share my gift…at least not around the table. I got my camera and posted the image. Several others on-line savored the joy.

My back had not healed enough to allow much time at the computer. I needed a walk, and not on hot country roads, so headed for a local shopping center. I required a few personal items for a conference next month, and the Fourth-of-July sales were in full swing. With list in hand, and budget in mind, I set out at a clip through the air-conditioned mall. Shopping didn’t take long and I headed back to the car through JC Penny, past the jewelry counter…usually a safe route for me to take. Not this time.

Hanging from the top hook of a wire clearance stand was the gaudiest red floral necklace I had ever seen. My grandmother would have loved it! I must have said something out loud because the woman at the side counter suddenly looked up at me. Giving her a quick embarrassed glance I moved in closer to the stand.

Memories flowed as I lifted the red and coral 1930′s style necklace off the hook. I could almost hear my grandmother’s voice and her delight. It looked like the jewelry I would play dress-up with when I was a child. The shiny molded plastic roses were the color of the ‘Tropicana’ rose that grew in a protected corner of her yard. I smiled and felt as if she, for the second time that day, was near.

I’m not an impulsive shopper, my budget matters. I would never wear that necklace anywhere, ever. Logic aside, I bought it anyway, it made me smile; it helped me recall a deep memory of love, one that went beyond her or me.

In Pope Francis’ encyclical, Lumen Fidei, he writes about truth and deep memory, how it “…deals with something prior to ourselves…” And that “prior” is love and the truth of being loved by God—and grandmothers.

That gaudy tomato-red necklace hanging from the dressing-table mirror brings delight to my little-girl heart, and brings to my day an unforgettable love that existed even before I was aware that it could.

 

 

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  • Maria Johnson

    Well my sweet gaudy friend, and why don’t you repost that picture to show us the smile and bright eyes that must surely accompany such a necklace? (And the exquisite taste of that tomato!)

    • http://www.patheos.com/blogs/prayergardens/ Margaret Rose Realy

      Just for you Maria:

    • http://www.patheos.com/blogs/prayergardens/ Margaret Rose Realy

      Happy now?

  • Ann Margaret Lewis

    Me want tomato. And hug from my girly girlfriend who wears the cool jewelry. :)

    Lovely piece, Margaret!! :)

    • http://www.patheos.com/blogs/prayergardens/ Margaret Rose Realy

      You are cute! I don’t think one of my tomatoes will travel well through the Post.

  • joannemcportland

    Lovely!

    • http://www.patheos.com/blogs/prayergardens/ Margaret Rose Realy

      The necklace? Yeah…it is…kind of… (Thanks, I’m always tickled when you enjoy one of my columns.)

  • stefanie

    Actually, this reminded me of my great-aunt June during a July-long visit at her home in Oklahoma back in 1976. At supper, we always had a plate of sliced tomatoes from her garden. I had never seen such large tomatoes — and tasty! Every July, my mind always goes back to Oklahoma and sliced tomatoes.

    • http://www.patheos.com/blogs/prayergardens/ Margaret Rose Realy

      Such a sweet memory…thanks for sharing it.

  • Scott Wilmot

    This wonderful post reminds me of my grandpa Clarence. He loved to tend his garden on our farm in Ohio and would bring tomatoes down for supper. He loved to eat them sliced and sprinkled with sugar; and I also picked up this vice! Thanks for the lovely memory.

    • Margaret Rose Realy

      I am delighted that you enjoyed my column. Thanks for sharing such a sweet memory.


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